16
It was a busy Friday lunchtime service and Lou had been surprised when she’d arrived to find Aidan not here and Shane in charge of running the kitchen. It hadn’t taken her long to learn that Aidan was quite a control freak where his restaurant was concerned and rarely took time off when it was open.
It was her last shift of the week, and she was looking forward to putting her feet up when she got home and having a well-earned day off tomorrow.
Another couple were being seated in her section when she returned to the dining room. As soon as she’d delivered the food to her table, she went to greet them and take their order. As she ran through the specials, she realised that she recognised the man.
‘Well, they sound delicious,’ he said, ‘but I already know what I’m going to have – the Mediterranean fish soup, please.’
‘Excellent choice.’
‘I certainly hope so, after coming all this way to have it.’
‘I’ll have the same,’ his companion said with a smile, closing her menu.
‘And we’ll have a couple of glasses of the Chablis,’ the man said.
‘What’s this?’ Shane asked Lou, waving a ticket at her as she entered the kitchen. There was a delicious smell of freshly baked bread as Mark took a tray of crusty sourdough from the oven. ‘Two Mediterranean fish soups for table eighteen?’
‘Yes?’
Shane was frowning and shaking his head at her. ‘We can’t do that. They’ll have to order something else.’
‘What? Why?’ Lou frowned. ‘That’s what they want.’ She knew there was plenty of fish today. She’d seen the delivery earlier. ‘No one told me it was off.’
‘Sorry.’ Shane sighed. ‘Did I forget to say?’
‘You didn’t mention it in the pre-service meeting,’ Mark mumbled.
‘Okay, my bad. Sorry, Lou. I forgot you’re new and wouldn’t know. But if Aidan isn’t here, the fish soup is off the menu. He’s the only one who can make it.’
‘But… that’s ridiculous! You’re a trained chef,’ she said to Shane, who was now calmly stirring a pot of sauce.
‘Sorry, I should have said he’s the only one who’sallowedto make it.’
Lou rolled her eyes. ‘That’s even crazier.’
‘It’s true.’ Ian, the commis, turned from the sink where he was cleaning a pile of mussels. ‘That’s the rule.’
‘But that doesn’t make any sense. Doesn’t he trust you to follow a simple recipe?’
‘It’s quite a complex dish, actually,’ Shane said. ‘But that’s beside the point because there isn’t any recipe. Aidan doesn’t write it down on purpose. He doesn’t trust anyone else to get it right.’
‘He has a reputation to uphold,’ Mark said in a sing-song voice as if this was a line he’d heard many times before.
‘For goodness’ sake! What happened to giving the customer what they want?’
‘Tough luck. Better they should be disappointed they can’t have it?—’
‘Than have it and be disappointed,’ Ingrid finished, joining in the chorus as she came through the door.
‘Well, this is one customer you definitely don’t want to disappoint,’ Lou said, playing her trump card. ‘It’s Senan Walsh out there.’
‘Sh-sugar!’ Shane stilled and he and Mark exchanged a look. Senan Walsh was one of the country’s top food writers and restaurant critics.
‘Yeah. So one of you is going to have to make it.’
To her astonishment, Shane shook his head.
